(Welcome back. In our last installment the crew of the Beauteous Revenge were about to attack a frigate fresh out of jump.) One-Eye crowed triumphantly as a glittering jet of vaporized metal hissed from the targeted craft. "Got it!" The unexpected impulse pushed the cutter away from the frigate and the glowing ion engines began to dim. "Looks like she's down for the count Cap'n!"

Captain Arcolier nodded regally as she calmly clicked her pointer on the second cutter. "Starboard batteries, don't let Port make you look bad. Get the other escort. Tractor Beam, stand by to acquire the frigate."

"Cap'n the engines are hot. Both powered vessels are underway." Stinky Pete looked up at his auburn haired captain. "The escort looks like she's delta-veeing to come see us."

She arched an eyebrow in response. "Starboard banks? You stupid lubbers awake down there?" Just as she spoke the viewscreen lit up with the fire from the second batteries. The second escort was hit and the vapor jet combined with the minor thrust they had built up to precess the ship outward in a complicated widening corkscrew.

"Glad to see Starboard made it to the party." Captain Arcolier drawled while looking significantly over at One-Eye. He nodded grimly, making a mental note to give the Starboard team extra response time drills over the next week. The Captain wasted no further time on reprimanding the crew, designating the frigate with a different colored icon. "Alright Tractor Boys. Bring me my prize!" The words barely left her mouth before a false-color blue beam sprang out on the tactical display, connecting the center of the Beauty to the fore end of the frigate. The deck shook gently as the artificially induced gravity locked into play. The effect on the stationary Beauty was minimal, but the frigate was more dramatic. As the beam had locked forward it turned the ship off-axis, Newton reaching all the way from the depths of his grave back on Old Earth to cruelly yank at the prize ship. As the ion drive at the rear continued to fire it began to fishtail about. Observers on the deck winced, knowing full well that such a squirrely delta-v wouldn't feel good. Combined with the nausea of phase transition it made good odds that civilians aboard the cargo liner were vomiting right now. Attitude jets on the craft fired, as the distant captain tried to correct his vector relative to the Revenge.

"Belay that!" Captain Arcolier snapped. "Port batteries! If you're recharged see if you can get me a pinpoint hit on those jets." At this range asking for a pinpoint hit on a maneuvering target was unreasonable. The thing about the crew of the Revenge was that they were the best, and they drilled obsessively. So when Cap'n Arcolier asked for the unreasonable she usually got it. Brief bursts from the port battery traced infinitely fast lines of destruction and the shifting attitude jets fell silent.

With other sources of delta-v silenced the frigate soon complied with the inexorable force of the Revenge's tractor beam and swung into a straight line approach. A rangefinder appeared on the main viewscreen, showing colored bands for the ranges of the Assault Pods. The Pods were the deep space equivalent of grappling hooks and ropes - the way the boarding parties would swing across and take possession of the frigate. Captain Arcolier nodded at One-Eye. "You take point today. Gather the First Marines and prep Assault Pod One for the grapple."

One-Eye saluted smartly before punching at his console. "First Marines! Form up in Assault Pod One. Prepare for boarding action!" He unstrapped from his chair and kicked off, soaring high above the crew's head in a graceful arc that sailed right through the main hatch. As One-Eye left the bridge a new display bit a corner out of the main view and showed One-Eye's perspective in an inlaid picture. Captain Arcolier watched the away crew's POV as a matter of course during boarding action.

One-Eye sailed down the sterile shaft that ran the length of the Revenge, serving a major traffic artery to the different areas of the ship. When the ship was at combat rest it was easy to swim down the air and with everyone at battle stations there was minimal traffic. Towards the aft end of the ship the members of First Marine swarmed out of their ready room, placed just a few hatches ahead of the Assault Pods. If the ship was under spin this would be a wide corridor, with access hatches on the left and right sides brightly painted with various color-coded lines to aid in navigation. Under thrust the hall would be much more dangerous, as it became "vertical" and fell from the bridge at the nose of the ship back to the engine room at the rear. The corridor's "floor" had an embedded ladder for such occasions, as well as a Velcro strip for suit traction and a bewildering proliferation of small rings and clamps for attaching lifelines or stowing gear. As a seasoned traveler One-Eye exploited the zero-g conditions for quick travel but stayed low, always within reach of the ladder in case combat maneuvers began. In a true crisis he would activate the powerful magnets in his soles, and plant his feet, locking to the laddered surface and breaking any fall. No such maneuvering occurred and he soon reached the sturdy airlock hatch that marked the entrance to Assault Pod One. He snagged a grip with an outstretched hand and skillfully pivoted around the entrance and towards the pilot seat for the Pod. "Status Sergeant?" he called out as he settled into the acceleration chair.

Sergeant Riker snapped off an impressive salute from the folding drop chair beside the Pod airlock. "First Marines all accounted for and strapped in. Ready for launch sir." Crash webbing strained to hold in Riker's impressive bulk against his seat and the bulkhead. Riker stood over six feet six inches and had the etched physique of somebody who combats zero-g with an impressive daily regiment of strict exercises. The First Marines dressed like pirates but drilled like a paramilitary strike force. Riker himself wore an outlandish pair of purple pantaloons stuffed into black combat boots and a large steel cutlass was strapped to the wall beside him. But his garb was loose-fitting and practical for combat and the flat expression on his ebony visage spoke volumes about his battle experience and training.

One-Eye nodded and punched a button on his panel. The airlock whooshed as the portal irised closed and air began to pump from the lock's interior. "Launching now!" As the green lights on the bulkhead blinked out, replaced by the red bar that read "Vacuum" telltale clanks came from the pod's exterior as the docking clamps released. The coiled spring energy pushed the Pod away from the Revenge in a jarring lurch before One-Eye smoothly brought the small maneuver engine online and rolled the Pod to point directly at the cargo frigate drifting at the end of a shimmering force tether emerging from the nose of of the pirate craft.

(Tune in next week to see Captain Arcolier draw her rapier!)

(See the next installment!)

Captain Jaimie Arcolier was having a bad hair day. In order to be a top ranked pirate captain she had to look her best at all times, but her deep auburn locks insisted on frizzing into a tangled mess. In a zero-g boarding action that would give her a crimson afro - she'd look like a Q-tip set on fire! Her intercom buzzed as she dug out another glop of styling gel with an exasperated sigh.

"Cap'n? We're at the hold point. If Carruther's frigate is on schedule it will jump through in five minutes." Old One-Eye had been her first mate for the last two years and he was currently up in the bridge, waiting for her to arrive. She cursed her recalcitrant hair as she slicked it back with the gel. Not enough body for a world-class look but at least nobody would laugh her out of combat if it came to that. She thumbed open her quarters and vaulted into the common hallway while still muttering under her breath. She was sure that the male captains had an easier time of it. If nothing else they usually wore hats or bandannas. But the market research showed that female captains needed their hair down for maximal licensing revenue. Damn fickle public!

Some raids she made more from the licensing than she did from the haul, but if her informant was right this pigeon would not be such a case. Carruther's and Sons were trying to sneak a fortune through the less traveled shipping lanes, hoping nobody would notice. A valid stratagem but it meant this frigate was traveling with a light guard. The informant swore they were shipping a full load of Earth spices and rare foodstuffs and they were bound straight to the Royal Palace of Cantrella. Not only were genuine Earth foods worth a fortune but Jaimie's animosity for the Cantrellan Empire was legendary. Tweaking the nose of Empress Relina by stealing food from her table meant more than the ready cash the cargo would fetch on the black market.

She strode through the bridge hatch with her trademark swagger, exuding confidence. She knew that she was "on" - if this raid went well the video rights would be worth the hassle. Her hair might have been flatter than she liked, but she had the rest of her pirate attire set to perfection. A tight turquoise blouse emphasized her figure while leaving no excess fabric to hinder her in combat. Tight black slacks tucked into the top of her dark leather knee-high boots, which were polished to a mirror shine. At least in shoes a female pirate got to be practical, and the boots had only the lowest heel with a wide footprint and a solid stance. Velcro strips on the bottom and magnets in the sole prepared her for all sorts of zero-g maneuvers. Her slender rapier hung from her hip, a simple unadorned blade that looked unremarkable. Despite the unprepossessing appearance she made major cash every year from licensed replicas of her famous blade. In many ways her rapier was her brand and she managed it well.

One-Eye snapped to attention and barked out the traditional call. "Cap'n on deck!"

Captain Arcolier settled in the captains chair, nodding as she did so. "Carry on." She cast a satisfied eye over her veteran bridge crew. They were ready for battle, and One-Eye had settled them down for work before she arrived. She depressed the fingertip key that would broadcast her voice throughout the Beauteous Revenge. "Drop gravitational spin and prepare for combat maneuvers."

One-Eye promptly said "Aye Aye Cap'n", even as he ran the macros from his station. The lighting dropped slightly and shifted to a warmer yellow tone. The omnipresent rumble of the engines dropped away as the ship stilled. Captain Arcolier snapped her restraint web in place as the false gravity faded away. She scanned the bridge again, noting with pleasure that her crew was ready for the order and no stray debris floated free in the cabin.

The bridge of the Revenge was both gorgeous and functional. It served double duty both as the practical command center of a functioning pirate ship and as the main set for the show Captain Arcolier sold in the gray samizdat market. Bland, grey salarymen on dozens of planets lived vicariously through the somewhat-true exploits of Arcolier and her crew so the bridge had to convey a sense of dynamism, a sense of wonder and action. In this day of modernization and discreet technology the bridge straddled some line between silly anachronism and hopelessly futuristic. No line was straight where a swooping curve would do. No small display existed where a large screen would fit, and most screens were topped with klaxons and lights to draw the eye when activated. The curving forward bulkhead captured attention as it was featureless and a deep midnight black, a black that positively swallowed light. Cap'n Arcolier claimed that material had cost her a small fortune with both powdered onyx and "smart" programmed buckyball nanomachines incorporated into the structure. The machines continually optimized the surface, making sure it was as smooth and as black as molecular technologies allowed. All of this blackness served as a backdrop to the primary display - a huge holographic tank. It was only a foot or so deep but it stretched the entire width and height of the bridge - an utterly gigantic display at ten feet tall and thirty feet wide. Although it could be set for one gargantuan image it was usually tiled into a variety of displays as it was now. A large center section lay blank, awaiting the Captain's prerogative, while smaller status and communication displays quietly scrolled around the edges. As Captain Arcolier settled in her captains chair she pulled up the forward visual display, filling the screen with an unexceptional display of blank space.

The crew settled in for a wait, but only a couple of minutes passed before Stinky Pete sang out from the conn station. "Thar she jumps!". As he touched keys a computer overlay sprang into being on the main screen, drawing in gravity waves with a false transparent green. A narrow ropy tube of emerald pulsed there, the jump line from Maxima to Pulion. This was the point where forces from the nearby black hole drew the line into nonexistence - where a ship was forced back into normal space. Indeed the line pulsed like a snake swallowing a mouse as the bulge that indicated a ship worked down the gullet.

The green overlay faded further into translucency as a visible glow grew at the jump terminus. A bright flash of light marked the transition back into Euclidean space as the cargo ship appeared. The ship was at the dead stop jump travel required, briefly blinded by the stresses of the phase shift. Two cutters escorted the cargo ship - slaved into the Bremmer field to allow a single transit, but they were just as blind as their parent ship. With luck the Revenge would strike before the guard craft even had their bearings.

Captain Arcolier's voice was steely and flat as she spoke. "Attack! Port banks disable my marked craft." She painted a craft on the viewscreen with her laser pointer, and sophisticated onboard computers read the light and translated the information into a tactical display for the laser batteries elsewhere in the ship. The Beauteous Revenge lunged forward as the first beams of ruby light speared outward.

(See the next installment!)